#ilyukhina

[hailed-marys]

The only person who calls stratt a girlboss is ilyukhina and even then she only does it once and never again

[murkymtl]

Bloodymary but Ilyukhina & Yáo live & they (+Rocky ofc) endlessly tease Grace & Simon about being pathetic, oblivious yearners.

+

Ilyukhina being absolutely APPALLED by the haphazard craftsmanship of the Iron Lung, “THIS is what they sent you down into an ocean of blood with??? The welding is phenomenal, I’ll give them that but there is NO pressure compensation on this thing,,, XRAY CAMERA!? They couldn’t even wire it properly!?”

& Yao being fascinated with Simon as a person, where he’s from, what the space stations he lived on were like, asking endless questions about the Quiet Rapture & going on about how brave Simon must have been to go through with his mission (willing or not)

+

all of them looking at the downloaded data from the SM-8 & SM-13, freaking the FUCK out at the Eel

“Grace & crew got lucky meeting me as first alien life, statement” -Rocky

[doctor-ryland-grace]

Doomed, Apparently. ( Ryland Grace x Reader. )

from one crazy Russian to another *holds up a shot of vodka* Я обожаю Илюхину

Title: Doomed, Apparently. Pairing: ( Heavily Implied - ) Ryland Grace x Reader. Rating: T. ( Okay for most audiences, alcohol mentions and heavy drinking. ) Words: 2 K. Summary: You and Ilyukhina are having a few drinks together on Stratt's Vat during a celebration that has no real purpose. She, as the true friend she claims she is, roasts you about your crush on a certain Molecular Biologist. ☆Ryland Grace Masterlist☆

You and Ilyukhina were tucked into the corner chair of the bar on Stratt’s Vat. Somehow managing to fit together on the cushion, shoulders pressing against one another, legs tangling as laughter came easier than it should have a couple of very questionable ‘celebration’ drinks she had ordered for the two of you. What were you celebrating? Her death, in her own way, on her own time. 

"I am just saying,” Ilyukhina slurred lightly, her accent more prominent now to your hazy brain as you listened intently to her voice, fingers tapping on her knees. She waved her shot glass in front of you for emphasis. “Your… Standards… Are bad. Need better ones.” “My standards are just fine!” You shot back with a laugh, but it came out too quickly, too defensive in a way that made your friends face contort into a wide, all-to-knowing smirk. 

“Oi, Da?” She leaned in, her brown eyes bright with mischief as they glinted the neon sign above the bar. You smiled goofily at her as you leaned back in the chair with a giggle. “Why spend ten minutes talking about how Grace says ‘uhhhhh’ in scientifically interesting way? Hm?”

You froze as you brought the shot glass to your lips. “I did not say it like that!” “Oh, soryan!!” She cackled, “It was more of ‘Ehhhhhh-uhhhhhh’. More attractive, ya?”

A pause stretched between you, long enough for you to consider denying everything on principle, but the shots of vodka in your system said a very emphatic ‘screw it!’ as you shrugged your shoulders, Ilyukhina’s smile widening at that as you felt a tug of heat against your chest.

“I just think he’s sorta… Interesting…” You admitted, “That’s all.” Ilyukhina stared at you for a moment before she snorted and placed a hand on your cheek. “You like him.” “I do not like him.” You mimicked the accent and smacked her hand away with a chuckle. 

Her grin turned more vicious and drew more into the acute observations she had made between you and the aforementioned Astrophage professional. “Ahhhhh… Ilyukhina sees. You likeeeeee him.”

You buried your face in the free hand not holding your shot glass and groaned. “This is why we don’t talk about emotions when there’s celebratory liquid involved!” From somewhere across the room, another Petrova Taskforce worker laughed too loudly and the ship kept humming like it wasn’t just witnessing your interrogation. “Relax.” She nudged your shoulder, plucking the shot glass from your hand and in one smooth motion, the vodka was downed without even a flinch. “Is very cute. Like you have crush on teacher.” She gasped dramatically, grabbing your shoulder in her strong hand as she shook you playfully.

You tipped your head back against the soft cushion of the chair, the bar’s glow smearing into soft halos above you as Ilyukhina’s grip on your shoulder kept you from sliding too far into the corner as she laughed at her own scandalized conclusion.

“He is teacher!” She cheered like it was the most damning evidence in the universe. 

“Well, he ain’t my teacher.” You protested weakly with a blush rising against your chest and cheeks, not heat from the drinks running wild in your system. And somewhere along the line of your vocals, it turned into more of a complaint than an actual defense which Ilyukhina found… Endearing as she gave you what you would call a ‘shit-eating grin’. 

“Is same energy.” She insisted, waving her hand dismissively. “Grace is very smart man. Very serious.” Her tone drove down into a mocking stance. “Very ‘I calculate asteroid impact in my sleep’ man.”

Her eyebrows rose at you suggestively and you couldn’t stop yourself from making a vague sound of agreement that you weren’t willing to fully commit to. Yet. Because there was a problem. When she said it like that, it sounded ridiculous. But, when you thought of it… It sounded annoyingly accurate and hot as could be. 

Ryland did have that effect. Like he existed slightly out of sync with everyone else, always a second behind or ahead of whatever room he was in. Even when he was just saying ‘uhhhhh’ in the middle of a sentence, like your brain had decided that that detail was worth remembering and worth telling Ilyukhina about. 

Ilyukhina leaned in closer, you could smell her fruity perfume hit your nose as a bashful smile graced your face to contradict her more sleuthy one. Her voice dropped into a conspiratorial vagueness and you were beginning to wonder if she was even speaking English anymore.

“Tell me truth, friend. If Grace asked you to explain entire Astrophage life span in front of us,” She pointed a finger accusingly at your chest, “You would forget how to speak, yes?”

“I would not---!” You started then immediately stalled at the expression on her face. Pure. Unamusement. At your very pitiful attempt of deflection. “I would maybe pause…” “HA!” She poked your chest harder than you thought capable and it nearly left you breathless. “This is simple confession!”

“It is not a confession!” You gasped, rubbing your face again. “He’s just… Interesting!!!” And hot. And smart. And hotttttttt.

“Mhhhmmmmm.” Ilyukhina patted your head like you were a dog. “And I am astronaut.” “But you are an astronaut.” You laughed.

“Exactly!” She said proudly. She beamed next to you for a moment before softening again, bumping her shoulder into yours to get your attention. “It is fine. Crush is normal. Especially on ship with not many people. Could be worse. Grace is not… Bad looking. Not my type, but,” She raised a hand defensively, “You like nerds.”

You huffed a laugh despite yourself, the tension dissolving into something much lighter and fun again. Across the bar, someone shouted a toast to the survival of the Earth, Ilyukhina who was one of the three to go to Tau Ceti and giving her life in the process, rose from her seat and cheered louder than anyone before plopping herself beside you again. 

“If Grace makes you say ‘eeeeuuuhhhhhhh’ like he says all the time,” She said, smiling cutely at you as she cupped your face, “I will approve of him."

“Ohhhh my god.” You muttered with a smile.

The warmth of the vodka was setting heavy and fuzzily in your veins now, turning the edges of the room into a soft glow. The neon sign of the bar bled together into streaks of pink and blue whenever you blinked too slowly and every laugh that left Ilyukhina seemed twice as loud and twice as funny as you laughed along side. The heat of her body and weight pressed against your side where the two of you had practically meted together into the tiny chair felt like a hug and you could no longer tell which foot was yours and which was hers. 

“You are doomed.” Ilyukhina informed you fondly, words tucking a bit too quickly together as the brunette looked out at the room. 

Giggling at the intense seriousness in her voice, your head tilted against her shoulder. “I am not doomed.” “Mhhhhh….” She tapped your cheek twice with her pointer finger before tipping over to grab two newly set out shot glasses off the bar edge. The bartender must have been watching her closely. You smiled happily as she handed you one.

“Very doomed. But… Is okay. One day Grace say ‘uhmmmmmmmmm’ at you and you will marry him on spot. Immediate.” She tapped her shot glass against yours, your ears sinking into the tiny tink it made. “I will haunt wedding, of course. From afterlife.”

The image of the Russian next to you as a ghost hit your already foggy brain harder than you wanted it to as vodka near came out your nose as you took the shot in. You coughed, choking on the drink and laughter that bubbled out of control. Your stomach hurt from laughing this much, your face pained almost from the amount of smiling. “You’re so mean!” You whined through the grin, words now mushier and tender.

“I am correct.” She countered proudly, lightly grasping your cheeks with her thumb and pointer finger. “Is shame though. If not Grace, you would have taken chance on me?” “Lesya!!” You almost screeched her nickname as she leaned in and pressed a small kiss to your cheek. 

“I am kidding! But not really.” The pretty brunette leaned over and pressed a juicer kiss to your other cheek. 

Across the room, someone yelled Ryland’s professional name, Dr. Grace, over the karaoke music and chatter and without thinking, without even meaning to, you snapped your head out of her grasp and your eyes drifted towards the blonde automatically. Like a compass needle going in the direction of home.

He was near the far end of the bar, half turned toward another scientist, one of his punny science shirts too blurry to read but you found yourself smiling at it anyway. His messy hair seemed more rumpled than usual like he’d been dragging his hands through it all night. And even from your perch, you could recognize the distracted expression on his face while he listened, nodding along a second too late like his brain was buffering. 

Your chest did that stupid little fluttering thing again. And… Unfortunately, Ilyukhina noticed. 

“AHHHH!!!” She shrieked, loud enough to make you and everyone in the immediate vicinity jump out of surprise. Her hand slapped against your arm while she pointed at you with the other in absolute, defiant, triumph. “SEE?! That is what I mean!!! Is true love.”

You dissolved instantly, cackling so hard you nearly slid right out of the chair had it not been for Ilyukhina almost death-gripping you.

“Stopppp!!!” You groaned-laughed, dragging your hands along your burning face while your shoulders shook helplessly, the laughs falling straight into that strange space of no sound, no air. The movement across the room must have caught Ryland’s attention because you could see him glance over curiously at the sound you two were making. 

For a second, like you were in a movie, everything in your pleasantly spinning brain seemed to slow. The bar lights reflected softly against his glasses, his expression shifted from confusion to recognition the moment he spotted you tucked into the corner with the Engineering officer for the mission. Like that explained the rambunctiousness right away.  

Then, Ryland… Smiled. Small, warm… A little awkward as he raised a hand and waved. Not at Ilyukhina. Not at the fish tank or the painting on the wall behind you. But to you. And god… You smiled slightly behind Ilyukhina, it was so dangerous. Just the way your eyes locked eyes, the way he refused to relinquish until he was tugged back into the conversation with the scientist in front of him.

You felt your entire body go embarrassingly light afterward, like you were going to float away into the atmosphere as your head fell dramatically onto Ilyukhina’s shoulder with a very loud muffled groan. “I hate him.” You muttered weakly into her shirt.

Ilyukhina cackled so loudly the people at the table next to your chair looked over. “Ah, nyet, nyet…” She patted your back, correcting you in the affectionately smug way she was known for. “You absolutely… Do not.”

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[greengrasmill]

Ilyukhina made Stratt do it

(Not a perfect heart though 👀)

[morallygrayautisticscientist]

Grace: I don’t want to die!

Ilyukhina: Okay but have you considered that you’d be dying alongside ✨ 💅 the diva herself 💅 ✨?

[absoluteamaze3]

I know the Hail Mary project was a secret from the public but I can just see. Olesya Ilyukhina, drunk out of her MIND, finds you sitting alone at a bar, and says she’s an astronaut and needs to fuck someone before she leaves to space forever— as a PICKUP line. And it WORKS. Not because you believe her, are you kidding— but because you think she’s cute and silly and yeah. That’s one hell of a pickup line.

You wake up next morning to her gathering her clothes, looking for a way out of your apartment— but she can’t resist the way you look at her, asking her to stay. Breakfast. Okay, fine, just coffee. And something in her chest, maybe deeper, in her ribs, tells her this is dangerous. It’s real bad. She’s 2 months into training and she can’t afford to love someone right now. But she finds herself in your kitchen, talking to you and realizing she could do this all day. So she stays, and loves— until she really has to go. And you realize okay so maybe she wasn’t joking about the whole astronaut thing.

You recall the memory of running into some of her work friends— and they had stared at you so strangely when you joked about marrying her in a couple years, especially the blonde one with the dumb glasses— and everything starts dawning on you. Oh. You’re really never going to see her again.

And before she leaves, when you’re pressed up against her, skin to skin, listening to her humming a nameless song, and wondering if you should ask her to stay, if that’s too selfish of you, she says:

“You are like…”

She searches for the right words, creasing her brows.

“A rock in my shoe.”

You laugh.

“Wow. Okay.”

She shakes her head, smiling.

“You know what I mean.”

Her fingers drift through your hair as the last of the sunlight spills into the room.

“I can still keep walking. But it would hurt. Every single step.”

Ilyukhina traces absent circles against your arm while the sun hangs low above the horizon. It looks no different than it always has, spilling honey-colored light across the floor.

And the sun is so radiant that your eyes surrender before you can see it disappear under the line. Every dawn convinces you there’s just as much light as yesterday. That you will wake up tomorrow to the same pale glow stretching across the morning.

It’s so bright that you can’t ever see it diminishing.

But it is.

…

You can stone me idc I’m gonna turn this into a full fic for the 5 Ilyukhina fans : here

[bibigo-lover]

ilyukhina meeting colt for the first time and she’s like “grace #2 go flip that car i want to see it roll.”

[myfunnylittlebrain]

I was laughing so hard while I was reading/listening to this part.

But it's nice that everyone in the Hail Mary Crew looked up to Grace as the First Officer of Project Hail Mary and the number two. They respect him greatly.